Not just any man - and the fact it's a man, who it is, isn't what causes Robby to swing the stapler at Mister LaRusso, but it is what makes his elbow make sure the swing misses him, swiping at the air between them. A face he wasn't expecting, a man he doesn't know what to do about. He pulls his arm back, a foot too, staring wide and incredulously at the figure.
Mister LaRusso, here; him, of all people, at any time, in this place.
There's a beat of his chest, a rush inside him, confusion and guilt and this smaller desire to run -- and then there comes the doubt and the guy who knows how this kind of horror story goes. Bring down his guard, trick him, don't even make it to the end credits.
His mouth is slightly agape, his wide eyes lowering with the furrow of his brow questioning, apprehensive, and then - a man like Daniel will notice it, the way that Robby looks at him quick, up from down and back again, assessing.
"Mister LaRusso." It's strained, the way he says it. Thick against the tone of relief it means to give, and how it's interpreted is up to the person: because of the situation they're in, the way they've caught each other off-guard, or -
--To give a chance of lowering Daniel's guard further before Robby goes in with the side kick to his more exposed knee. A hope to make him stumble, then to come in with the stapler again to his shoulder (a head would be better), a punch forward for a face or chest.
Because trick or not, Robby's not about to underestimate any kind of Mister LaRusso. If this place knows what it's doing, he needs all he can get, to at least wind the man before bolting.
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Not just any man - and the fact it's a man, who it is, isn't what causes Robby to swing the stapler at Mister LaRusso, but it is what makes his elbow make sure the swing misses him, swiping at the air between them. A face he wasn't expecting, a man he doesn't know what to do about. He pulls his arm back, a foot too, staring wide and incredulously at the figure.
Mister LaRusso, here; him, of all people, at any time, in this place.
There's a beat of his chest, a rush inside him, confusion and guilt and this smaller desire to run -- and then there comes the doubt and the guy who knows how this kind of horror story goes. Bring down his guard, trick him, don't even make it to the end credits.
His mouth is slightly agape, his wide eyes lowering with the furrow of his brow questioning, apprehensive, and then - a man like Daniel will notice it, the way that Robby looks at him quick, up from down and back again, assessing.
"Mister LaRusso." It's strained, the way he says it. Thick against the tone of relief it means to give, and how it's interpreted is up to the person: because of the situation they're in, the way they've caught each other off-guard, or -
--To give a chance of lowering Daniel's guard further before Robby goes in with the side kick to his more exposed knee. A hope to make him stumble, then to come in with the stapler again to his shoulder (a head would be better), a punch forward for a face or chest.
Because trick or not, Robby's not about to underestimate any kind of Mister LaRusso. If this place knows what it's doing, he needs all he can get, to at least wind the man before bolting.